


Of Gods and Kings

by SmutPrince



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmutPrince/pseuds/SmutPrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike Chilton, bad boy of Motorcity, is the last person you'd expect to be dominated. Especially by Chuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Gods and Kings

**Author's Note:**

> Why isn't there more awkward roleplaying between Mike and Chuck? (And where's my Duke/Chuck for that matter...)

Panicked shrieks tore through the air on the outskirts of the ‘Realm’, as Chuck called it, Mike smirking happily as he ripped through the metal and dust, screeching to a halt just before the cliff’s ledge. “M-m-m-mike?” Chuck stammered, bony fingers in a vise-like grip on Mutt’s frame. Mike pet Chuck’s shoulder reassuringly, popping open the car door. “Cool it, Chuckles, we’re here.”

Chuck quickly stumbled from the car, observing his surroundings with the flinching movements of a frightened animal. “Wh-why are we outside the realm? Nobody’s here until Saturday.” Mike winked, snapping his fingers. “Exactly, we get the whole Realm,” Mike stifled a snort at his new LARPing lingo, “to ourselves.” Falling to a knee, Mike bowed his head. “Your majesty, my Lord, Lord Vanquisher.”

Freckled cheeks now crimson, Chuck nodded slowly in acknowledgement. Mike arose. “Follow me, babe, I’ve got great things to show you.” And even greater plans. Mike extended his hand, and Chuck took it. “Mikey, what are you planning?” The blonde eyed his boyfriend suspiciously. Surely dragging him all the way to the outskirts of the realm was not laced with pure intentions.

All thoughts of suspicion were abruptly severed as Chuck gazed upon a site to behold. An enormous, sleek throne stood before him, shimmering in the light that seeped through the abandoned warehouse’s ceiling. “When did you find the time to even think build this?” Chuck pestered, admiring the lustrous seat before him. It beckoned him forward, but he hesitated. Mike smiled and waved his hand dismissively, “No big deal, Dutch just whipped it together per request.” Extending a hand towards Chuck, the blonde taking it as he gawked. “My Liege,” Mike teased, cocking an eyebrow as Chuck was unable to properly convey his thoughts into words. “Hafah…bal…ahar…” Mike led his ‘king’ to his throne and stood in front of him, leaning above him with a hunger in his eyes that only Chuck had seen.

“From now on, you’re my Lord and my King and I serve only you,” Mike purred, smirking down at the flustered mess of a kid beneath him. Oh, the things Mike would do for Chuck. So young and so fun to toy with. “Mike are you sure you want to-” “As soon as you step onto the battlefield…,” “Mike, seriously, I know the rules but-” “You must not. Break. Character.”

A slap to the face broke the musty air, and Mike was frozen in shock. Chuck’s hand stung, but oh did it feel good. “Thou shan’t address your King without permission,” Chuck hissed, grabbing Mike by the hair and pulling. Hard. Mike, wide-eyed, stared dumbly at Chuckles. Chuckles, his Chuckles, just slapped him in the face. And it felt good.

Chuck, or rather, Lord Vanquisher, drew Mike forward, tracing his lips against the nape of his night’s neck. “The password is Kane Co.,” he mumbled softly, kissing Mike swiftly on the cheek before tossing him against the floor. Password? Password…, oh. Password. Gotcha.

Mike blinked up at Chuck, a tight coil of heat curling angrily in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t their first sexual encounter, no, that had been much more awkward and loud. In every situation they’d been in, Mike was the dominant one. Sure, he liked to take it rather to give it but he was always the one in control. This was something unfamiliar, something unexpected, something new. Mike loved it.

“Arise, Smiling Dragon,” Chuck ordered, slipping his foot under Mike’s chin and nudging up. Mike moved in confusion, not having been ordered to do something since his days working with Kane. This was a little different from what he had planned. Mike planned on Chuck melting away in the throne as Mike did unspeakable things to him. Made him scream. He had not expected the terrified tech geek to take a turn at being in control, but Mike wasn’t complaining. Chuck, eyes not visible yet having the impression of ferocity, remained silent for five minutes, as if he had to examine Mike. As if he hadn’t seen every inch of him in the buff. “What a fine whore you’ll be,” Chuck mumbled, making Mike splutter. A whore?

Another slap to the face and Chuck was on his feet, standing over the crouched Mike. Chuck pressed his sneakers into Mike’s shoulder blades, earning a hiss of both pain and arousal. “Whores do not talk. Whores do not make noise. Whores behave.” Chuck pressed down harder, forcing Mike onto his hands and knees. “You. Will. Behave.”

Mike bowed his head, panting as he felt the blood from his face sink down his body, reaching his stiffening cock. “Smiling Dragon,” Chuck began, voice icy and as smooth as Mike had ever heard. “You owe me a debt of life, do you not?” Mike rolled his eyes, face hidden from view. “Yeah,” he replied, feeling cocky. Chuck knelt down, tearing Mike’s head up so that he met his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

Gritting his teeth into a fierce smile, Mike entertained his Lord. “Yes, my Lord.” Chuck smiled. “You enjoy partaking in extraneous acts like a little bitch don’t you?” “Yes, my Lord.” Damn, Chuck was good at this. “And little bitches are loyal to their kings, are they not?” So good. “Yes, my Lord.” Good at revving Mike’s engines. The sound of his heart beating and the feeling of his cheek bruising was entirely too satisfying in a way Mike didn’t fully comprehend. Never let anybody but his sweet, darling Chuck treat him like this. To be truthful, Chuck was, despite his inability or reluctance to lead the relationship, his King.

Chuck sauntered back, fingers tracing Mike’s jawline as he moved away. On the throne he sat, proud and un-daunting, looking like a true king. How Mike must look in this situation. Like a true King’s bitch. Mike crawled awkwardly towards the throne, ground rubbing his knees uncomfortably, until he sat just before Chuck, lips not even inches away from the insistent bulge in Chuck’s pants. Mike bit his lip to keep from chuckling. It was a reminder that Chuck was still in there, probably fighting back the urge to kiss and beg for forgiveness.

The sound of a snap broke the air and Mike risked lifting his eyes to meet Chuck’s. The usually feeble King of the Realm gestured to his groin, expectant. “Speed it up, naive.” Mike couldn’t help but burst into laughter, resting his head on Chuck’s knees. “K-kane Co!” he gasped, eyes watering. Chuck instantaneously stiffened, grabbing Mike by the shoulders. “What? What is it? Are you alright?” he screeched, voice cracking as he began to fall into panic. Mike waved him off, still laughing hysterically. “N-nothing’s wro-HAhahaHAhahA!”

Mike took a moment to wipe his eyes and catch his breathe. “Oh Jeez, what the fuck, who even says that?” Chuck’s face hit purple. “I was in character!” he protested, voice squeaking as embarrassment flooded his body. Leaping from his throne, Chuck bit his lip. “We should just go back to the gang!” he yelled. Mike pushed the hysterical blonde back into his throne. “Nah-ah-ah! I did not spend all week having Dutch build this just to stop where it was getting good.”

“It’s a stupid idea! You’re not even taking it seriously!” Chuck hollered, falling back into the throne like a tantrum-stricken child. “I’m taking it seriously, Chuckles, babe, just try and die down on the ‘lore’ or whatever you call it. I don’t think I can handle another moment like that,” Mike snickered this last part, tracing a finger up Chuck’s thigh and hovering over the bulge in his pants. “‘Sides, it doesn’t look like you really want to stop.”

Chuck shivered, biting his lower lip. “F-fine!” he gasped, pushing Mike off of him and lowering him to the ground slowly. “Just try and not screw up again!” Mike winked and grinned. “Is that an order?” Chuck’s mouth curled into a small smile, blushing and turning away slightly, embarrassed. “Y-yeah. It’s an order!”

The venom in Chuck’s voice arose with ‘order’ and Mike knew the game had begun again. “My lord, may I remove your pants?” Mike asked, flexing his eager hands. Chuck gave a quick nod, waving his left hand as he rested his head on his right. “You may.” Mike tore at Chuck’s pants, slowing only when Chuck barked at him for nearly ruining his only pair of ‘breeches’ on hand. Again with the weird vocabulary? Chuck’s briefs, black with several white math equations running across it, clearly outlined his manhood. The first time they’d ever seen each other naked, Mike hadn’t expected much. So it came as a more than just pleasant surprise to know that Chuck was well hung.

“I commemorate you on your length, Lord Vanquisher,” Mike whispered, watching as Chuck’s mouth twitched and his face reddened. “Yes, well, carry on,” he managed, keeping himself as calm as possible. “Yes sir.” Fishing Chuck’s member out, Mike held him in his hand, squeezing softly. The cock arose, as did Chuck’s heartbeat. “Like this sir?” Mike inquired, tightening his hand and rubbing the head ever so gently. Chuck grabbed for Mike’s hair, moving him towards his member. “Enough f-foreplay,” he spat. “Suck.”

The magic word. Mike instantly took Chuck inside of his mouth, groaning as the grip on his hair did nothing but tighten. Chuck moved Mike forcibly, slowing and speeding up when he saw fit. “Gooooood, thou are a commemorative knight indeed,” Chuck hissed through his teeth. Despite his cockiness, Mike could feel Chuck shaking underneath him. He could feel him holding back the urge to beg for it, to submit. Though he did not give in to his temptations, and Chuck yanked Mike off of him, jerking him upward to smash his mouth against Mike’s, tasting his own precum.

The kiss lasted not ten seconds before Mike was thrown back onto Chuck’s cock. “I refuse to do all this work myself, whore, do your share of work. This is a privilege and it can be taken away,” Chuck snapped, letting out a shudder as Mike’s teeth lightly scraped his shaft. “Loyalty to the king means doing what the king wants.” Mike replied with a mumbled ‘yes sir’ and began pumping what wasn’t in his mouth with one hand, tightening his hands around Chuck’s scrotum with this other. Chuck sunk in his throne, hands still forcing Mike onto his length, Mike’s lips curling around his member when he heard his king let loose a soft whimper. “Don’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you slut!” Chuck shouted and, attempting to re-establish his authority, slammed Mike all the way down onto himself.

Gagging at the sudden force, Mike’s eyes rolled back in his head and he began to lose oxygen. The euphoric state didn’t last long, because Chuck pulled out just as rapidly as he had shoved Mike down. “Take everything off,” Chuck ordered. Mike stared up at Chuck’s cock, mouth watering for the satisfaction of making Chuck cum. “Now.” Mike stood reluctantly, shedding his jacket and letting it fall on the floor. Chuck said nothing and his face was clear of emotion, eyes still curtained behind his bangs but surely watching him intently. Mike kicked out of his shoes as he removed his shirt and through them to the side.

Chuck’s member was still leaking, and it was visibly throbbing as Mike began to unbuckle his belt, sliding it out with care. He went to throw it with his clothing, but Chuck protested. “Give that to me.”

Shocked, Mike handed over his belt, unsure of how it would be used. Would he be hit with it? Or perhaps strangled? The possibilities were making him harder by the second. “Don’t stop,” Chuck ordered. “Pants. Go.” Mike obliged with the speed of a trained pet, slipping out of his jeans and tossing them with the rest of his unwanted clothes. Garnished in only socks and orange briefs, Mike’s fingers traced the outline of his boxers seductively before peeling them off. “May I keep my socks on my lord? It’s incredibly cold.” Mike was removing his boxers from around his ankles when he saw Chuck nod. As if he didn’t know how he felt about Mike wearing socks in bed. Or when he wore those sweet silk stockings. It was a shame he didn’t bring them.

So here Mike stood before Chuck, member protruding proudly as his tan skin became more and more heated despite the draft throughout the wearhouse. Chuck leaned forward, and finally Mike caught a glimpse of those eyes. Those caramel eyes that were filled with such fierce need that Mike himself bowed down to their intensity. “I picked you to be my highest knight, Smiling Dragon.” Chuck beckoned Mike forward and the caramel skinned man complied, nestling atop his younger lover. “Sire, if I may, what, uhm, did beseech thee to chose one such as I?” Dirty talking in traditional English was a feat, how on earth had Chuck managed this whole time?

“Art thou not aware of your own beauty retained in physical form? Or perhaps it is the inescapable truth that, while I may be king, I am but a man. A man who longs for those of whom he trusts.” God damn Chuck, you sure know how to romance a guy. Besides, you know, the slut and whore and spanking and slapping and glorious, glorious biting. Mike’s mind drifted to all the things Chuck had done to him in the past hour. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want more. More punishment. Mike jerked his hips, brushing his cock against Chuck’s thighs, rubbing his precum on the pale, freckled skin below.

The slap that followed was expected, the harsh words coveted, and the scratches on Mike’s thighs agonizingly tantalizing. “M-my Lord please-” Mike gasped, biting down on his lip as Chuck dug his fingernails deeper into the vulnerable flesh of Mike’s thigh. A single smack to the ass and Mike was moaning like the whore he said he was. “That’s it, beg. Beg for my touch.” Mike felt Chuck ghost his long, long fingers across his lower belly, tracing the shaft of his cock, dragging across the scratches, across his chest. He felt those lovely fingers everywhere and when they pulled away there was an unfillable emptiness inside of Mike that nothing but Chuck could fill.

“My Lord, please, fuck me,” Mike hissed, jaw so tight he though he’d break on of his teeth. Chuck’s cock was flat against Mike’s left ass cheek and the freckled teen moved towards Mike’s entrance. “Oh, but I am afraid that we are out of lubricants, Smiling Dragon.” The fingers returned and Mike arched his back, throwing his head from side to side, his clavicle protruding so far out that Chuck had to bite down. “There’s proper lubricants in my front pocke-OH GOD CHUCK!” Mike’s cock was being furiously pumped by his lover, precum drizzling down Chuck’s hand. “That is Lord Vanquisher, Knight, you will address me as such!” Chuck snapped, squeezing Mike painfully hard and making him scream. “Yes sir, I am so sorry sir, a thousand apologies sir, please sir, please sir, please sir-!” Mike went on and on until his throat was raw and his voice cracked every time he spoke.

“Very well,” Chuck spoke simply, those caramel eyes flashing in the opening of his bangs. Chuck managed to arise from the chair, pushing Mike to the ground. “Crawl to your clothing and retrieve the proper lubricants. You are lucky I am feeling merciful on you, my pretty, pretty knight. Had you been anyone else I would have taken you dry.” Mike winced at the thought as he retrieved the lube on hands and knees. He could just imagine the fiery pain ripping through his body as Chuck claimed his ass dry. Mike dolloped far too much lubricants on his fingers and looked up at Chuck, who now stood over him expectantly.

“Sire, allow me,” Mike begged, voice still groggy. Chuck nodded. “Obviously, I shan’t sully my hands with such a deed as this…, no matter how captivating it may seem. No, I prefer to see you fuck yourself like the loyal and willing knight you are.” Mike pressed his fingers to his entrance without hesitation. “Loyalty to the king,” he rasped sliding each finger in one by one, stretching himself for what was to come. Chuck traced his own cock slowly as he watched, eyes playing games with Mike’s. “Enough,” Chuck yelped, mouth in a hard line as he lowered himself towards Mike.

Mike lay on his back, eager and waiting. Then he saw the belt. Oh the belt. Chuck spread Mike’s leg’s nestling between Mike’s thighs as he looped the belt and traced a line down Mike’s trail. “Tsk, tsk, look at you. You truly are a perfect subject, aren’t you?” Mike was gulping down air, impatient. He fucked like he drove, and he wanted to hit the gas already. Chuck took the belt in both hands, wrapping it around Mike’s neck and slowly tightening it. The world went two shades darker as the belt stopped tightening. It was a hazy experience, but Mike could feel Chuck’s member intruding upon his entrance and soon there was nothing but the familiar sensation of skin being stretched to its max.

Mike went to cry out but there wasn’t enough air. The belt, his belt, was clad against his neck, constricting him to a point where he could only just manage to breathe. It wasn’t long until Chuck was moving, rapidly, forcing himself deeper and deeper until he was at the hilt. Mike was convulsing slightly, unable to moan or even catch a breathe. He was kept in the limbo of unconsciousness and the only real feeling he had was the one snug inside of him. His cock flush against Chuck’s thin waist, it created an almost impossible friction.

Chuck’s hand were digging into the dirt on either side of Mike’s head and the familiar sounds of ecstasy reached Mike’s clouded hearing. From the blur of his surroundings, Mike could still see those gorgeous eyes.

Ramming himself in and out of Mike, piercing the ring again and again, Chuck made a primal growl as the pace quickened and the force increased. To call this sex was to call Da Vinci a doodler. No, this was beyond the realm of anything else and the only time anything was ever this good was when it was with Chuck. Only with Chuck. The small noises, the feeling of that magnificent cock pushing farther and farther within him and the only sound louder than the rasps of air both parties managed to capture were the screams. This was not sex. This was fucking.

Mike was unaware of what was going on beyond the point of the extasy he felt with every thrust. He didn’t hear himself manage a scream, a beg, a plead. He heard not the words that Chuck was forcing him to say or the tightening of the belt around his neck. Only the glorious, glorious glow of the world around him and those eyes that shone so bright and the riptide that was climax. So here he was. Mike Chilton, fucked into the ground by his king. His king outside of the Realm. His God.

The release was intense and faintly he realized that Chuck was over the edge or close. The spasming muscles within Mike proved too much and soon the King fell, toppling on the knight below him. As the two of them, intertwined in the aftermath, began to fade, they revealed their true characters and soon there were soft coos and kisses from the mighty king. The world did fade and the only thing left were those brown eyes.


End file.
